Page 87 of One More Bad Boy

- Chapter Twenty-Eight -

Amina

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“Stop!” I cried, strugglingin the steel grip of the man who'd yanked me from the stage. There were too many bodies for me to keep count. People chatted on walkies, all while I was dragged along an increasingly empty hallway. “Where are you taking me?”

“The security office,” one of the men said, giving me a shake.

Another set of hands pressed my wrists into my spine until I hissed in pain.

“Isn't this extreme?” a familiar voice asked. I was yanked around as the group turned to face the person talking. Sherman had followed us down the hall, his bright suit out of place in the bland, gray hall. “You don't need three men to hold down one girl,” he scolded.”

Amazingly, they released me. “Mr. Proud! It's just—well, she caused hysteria by intruding on the stage.”

“Hysteria?” he snorted. “She sang a song. If you look at the contestant paperwork, you'd see she's on the list. Things probably got mixed up is all.”

It wasn't a total lie, Ihadbeen listed to sing. But the final sets were created this morning, and I hadn't showed up to fill them out in person, so officially, I was out. The security guards didn't know how to verify that; Sherman's authoritative energy was making them back down.

“Sir, if she's a contestant, then what should we do?” one of the men asked.

“I'll take care of this,” Sherman said. “I'd hate for you to lose your jobs over being too aggressive with a celebrity.”

The guards eyeballed me with unease. “Yes, Mr. Sherman. We'll leave this to you,” the leader said. Waving a beefy arm, he marched the guards from the hall, leaving me alone with Sherman.

Rubbing my wrists gingerly, I squinted at him. “Thanks, I guess.”

His face shifted into complete seriousness. “What the hell were you doing out there? Did Bach not tellanyonethat Beats and Blast wasn't his anymore? If you wanted to be represented bymycompany, you needed to meet with me, first.”

“This has nothing to do with Beats and Blast,” I said, my voice seething.

“Then what would possess you to cause such a scene?”

I lifted my head with pride. “Someone gave me some advice a while ago. Something about recognizing my own raw potential.” Sherman's eyes widened at my callback. “I was halfway to the airport yesterday. Ready to go back to Portland, give everything up. Then I thought about all the people who kept pushing me forward. Everyone telling me tochase my dreams.My parents died wanting this for me, my aunt used me, my friend was living vicariously through me. I thought I was doing thisfor me, except I wasn't. Not until today. Even if I almost got arrested, it was worth it.”

There was compassion in his eyes. My explanation had resonated with him. “You made the right choice, Amina. And that song you performed, it was one of the best I'veeverheard. You're not just an amazing performer, you compose music beautifully.”

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